Chapter Eleven
Lowering her head, Dixie rested her nose against warm, soft skin and inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweetest smell on God’s green earth. Clean and sweet, the scent was positively addictive. As a little sigh brushed her ear, she raised her head and smiled down into the perfect face of her beautiful baby boy. Only a few hours old, Wyatt Kyle Prescott slept peacefully in the cradle of her arms.
“He’s perfect, Dixie,” Kyle murmured as his hand cupped the back of his son’s knit cap-covered head.
Blinking back tears, she bit her trembling bottom lip to keep from blubbering once again. “I’m so happy,” she said while gazing up at him and returning his smile with a watery one of her own.
“Me too, darlin’.”
“I’m going to be weepy again, honey. Be prepared.”
“Cry all you want, baby. I’ll kiss away your tears.”
“I love you, Kyle.”
“And I adore you, Dixie.” He was leaning in to claim her mouth when the door opened.
“Where is my newest great-grandchild?” Miss Emmaline called as she came into the room. As lively as ever, she carried a cane, but rarely used it, like now when she practically bounded in with ageless excitement. Coming up on the opposite side of the bed from Kyle, she reached across and covered his strong hand with her slender, frailer one as she gazed upon the new arrival.
“He’s precious,” she uttered softly, aiming a joyful smile Dixie’s way. “You two do excellent work, as I always predicted you would.”
“Taking credit so soon?” her mother-in-law asked as she walked in with Joel, baby Wyatt’s beaming grandfather. Between them stood a wide-eyed Emma, the new big sister clasping her Nana and Papaw’s hands in a death grip.
“My blood flows through young Wyatt’s veins,” Emmaline answered, “so of course, I’m taking credit where credit is due.”
Kyle and Dixie shared a look, her grinning and him chuckling, neither weighing in on the same discussion that had taken place almost six years ago when their daughter was born.
“Come and see your new brother, Em,” Kyle urged as he held out his arm to her.
Eager to do almost anything her adored daddy asked, the little girl ran to him, giggling as he swooped her up onto his lap. As if on cue, the baby stirred, then stretched and yawned before promptly going back to sleep, in complete disregard of his audience.
“He’s like my baby doll, Daddy.”
“In size, sweetheart, that’s true, but Wyatt is a real baby.”
“Mommy already told me that. And that I can help feed him and bathe him and change his diapers.” She paused to wrinkle her nose before she continued. “Not the poopy ones though—that’s disgusting. But I’m not to do any of those things without help, right, Mommy?”
“That’s right, baby girl. You are going to be such a great big sister, the best ever.”
“I am,” she cried as she stretched out the front of her t-shirt bearing the cartoon image of a crown-wearing princess in a pink dress—her favorite color—which said in large glittering print, World’s Best Big Sister. When all the adults shushed her, she turned to her grandmother and in a loud whisper asked, “I was nice to him, Nana. Can we get ice cream now?”
Her bribery out of the bag, Caroline grimaced, but Dixie appreciated her efforts. Emma hadn’t been as enthusiastic as the rest of the family when she’d learned an addition to the family was on its way, especially after being the star for six years. Better to have a little manipulation on this special day than drama to spoil it.
“Of course, sweetie, you did very well.” As her Nana held out her hand, the little girl squirmed off her father’s lap and ran to her doting grandparents, who once again each took a hand in one of their own.
Kyle’s dad glanced down at Emma, his lips twitching with obvious amusement. “I predict someday real soon, you’ll want to spend time with your brother without having to get bought off with ice cream.”
“Don’t count on it,” the precocious girl answered.
“We’ll be back,” Caroline called as they left to get Emma her payola.
“She’ll come around,” Kyle said as he leaned in and kissed Dixie’s temple.
“I know,” she sighed. “My only worry is how long it will take.”
“I loved my baby sister,” Emmaline said without taking her eyes from sleeping Wyatt. “Until she stole my favorite doll and pulled out all her hair, then she was the bane of my existence.”
“How long before that grudge ended?” Dixie asked, only having brothers to judge by; girls were a whole new world to her entirely.
“Who said it ever ended?” she replied, looking up, her eyes twinkling as she leaned in and took a deep breath of the baby’s head. “Ah, the fountain of youth, if we could only bottle it. May I hold him?”
“Absolutely,” Dixie smiled. “Kyle, can you help?”
He scooped up his son in his capable, confident hands and, when Miss Emmaline had settled into a high-backed chair, laid Wyatt carefully in his great-grandmother’s arms.
“What a perfect Christmas present,” she whispered.
“He won’t think so,” Kyle chuckled as he stood watching the two. “I can already hear him complaining about getting gypped on presents.”
“Nonsense. As a Christmas Eve baby, you’ll be conscious of slighting him and he’ll end up with twice as much. I always did.”
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry,” Dixie moaned. “We spoiled your big party.”
“Oh, pshaw!” she demurred while gently rocking Wyatt. “It’s only a party.”
“But it’s your one hundredth birthday! You should go…”
“We’ll head over and make an appearance in a little while, dear. Seeing my great-grandson who shares my special day is much more important.”
“You’ll always have a connection because of it,” Dixie said tearfully. She flapped her hand at Kyle. “Get a tissue, honey. It’s starting already.”
Although there was an entire box on the nightstand, instead of giving it to her, he sat beside her once again, took her face between his hands, and did what he promised, gently kissing the tears away.
“Look at the lovebirds, Wyatt,” they heard as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “Get used to it. Always holding hands and smooching, just like your Great-Nana and Papaw did.”
Kyle chuckled as he lifted his head and pressed a few tissues into Dixie’s hand. His arm slipped around her shoulders as he snuggled his hip against hers and sat beside her once more on the bed.
“You need to be up and about in a hurry, Dixie,” Emmaline said as she gently patted the baby’s diapered and swaddled behind. “The gallery opening is in two weeks.”
“Thank goodness I won’t have to go looking like a New Year’s float as I thought.”
“Yes, he was anxious to get into this world a whole week early. But the timing is good for you. It would have been a shame if you had missed it.”
Emotion filling her voice, Dixie replied, “I don’t think I could have done it without either of you.”
“We didn’t do much. I might have given you a nudge a time or two.”
“A nudge! If I hadn’t broken ground when I did, you threatened to rent the equipment and bulldoze the site yourself.”
She shrugged, but when the slight movement caused Wyatt to stir, went back to rocking.
“We’re so proud of you for realizing your dream, baby.” As he spoke, Kyle lightly stroked the back of one finger down her cheek and the tears welled yet again.
“I didn’t dream it until you and Miss Emmaline came into my life and made me think it was possible.” She nuzzled the hand at her face, as she admitted the undeniable truth. If not for Kyle and her dear friend, the new Goodwin Gallery for the Arts, whose mission was to promote the work of upcoming and often struggling artists like Dixie had once been, would have never been possible. She went on to add softly, just for him, “Thank you for everything, Kyle. I think I woke up the day you stormed out of my booth at that Mistletoe Market long ago.”
He had the grace to look chagrined. “I was hard on you, Dix.”
“Yeah, but I had my snobby head in the sand, painting everyone who had good fortune or worked hard and made something of themselves with the same brush.”
“Yet, as stubborn as you were, you had the capacity to grow, and became a better person for it.”
“Because of you.”
“No, because that’s the kind of woman you are. And it’s why I love you.”
His head began to dip to hers, when Wyatt made a little cooing sound. As they looked up, they saw Emmaline laying the sleeping baby in his crib. “I’ve got a hankering for some ice cream. I think I’ll go find my namesake and join her.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“I may be old, Dixie, but I know when I’m a third wheel.” She moved to the door and pulled it open. “Oh, did I mention I ran into Marcy the other day? Poor dear, looked a little haggard with dark circles under her eyes, bless her heart. Divorce can do that to a woman.” The marriage hadn’t lasted two years. “And that Trisha, tsk tsk,” she continued, while sadly shaking her head.
“Nana…” Kyle cautioned, never one for gossip.
“What about her?” Dixie asked, shushing him.
“Another broken engagement. Number four, I believe.” Then she winked at Dixie, before sailing through the door, spry as could be for starting her second century of life.
Dixie turned to him, mouth open. “She didn’t… she couldn’t have… Could she?”
“No,” Kyle scoffed, then he grinned. “But as you so eloquently put it so many years ago, karma can be a real bitch.”
She started, then couldn’t keep from laughing. Not because Marcy or Trisha were miserable and alone, but because she had the man of her dreams and a more perfect life she couldn’t have asked for.
“Sh, Dix,” Kyle murmured, as he pulled her close. “You’ll wake Wyatt and I wanted to give you your Christmas present.”
“But it’s not Christmas morning.”
“This can’t wait.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a familiar green sprig tied with a red bow.
“Oh, honey,” she whispered, her laughter instantly becoming tears of happiness. “The legend was right.”
“Yes, as promised, we found deep romance and lasting friendship under the mistletoe.”
“We did, so kiss me, honey,” she urged while angling her face up to his. “We don’t want to risk breaking our run of good luck.”
He lowered his mouth until his next words brushed over her lips. “There wasn’t any luck about it, darlin’. You were destined to be mine. You just took a roundabout way of getting to me.”
“I love you, Kyle. So much.”
“I love you too, baby. Now, before the little guy wakes or someone else comes barging in, give me my mistletoe kiss.”
The End